Together - Carl and Patrick
by KillerWithin
Summary: Carl and Patrick have been dating for a while in the prison, but what happens when things become more of a struggle?


" _You - you'll_ _seriously go out with me?"_

 _The surprise in Patrick's voice was undeniable, his features having lit up the moment Carl spoke positively in response to his question. Admittedly, he hadn't been expecting a yes; being let down gently was the more likely option, or perhaps a frown as Carl explained that he didn't 'swing that way'._

" _That's what I said, wasn't it?"_

 _What the shorter of the pair_ wouldn't _admit was that he had, in fact, had a thing going for Patrick since the day he joined the prison group; the guy was a dork, constantly speaking of computer parts and ranting about how authors had made mistakes in their own comic books. And yet, he couldn't help but want to spend more and more time with him. Maybe it was the way his eyes brightened at the mention of his favourite superhero, or the way his nose twitched whenever his hands were too full to push his glasses back up as they fell down, but Carl's thoughts over the past few months had seemingly revolved solely around the curly-haired boy with the grin._

" _That's -_ thanks, _man. Thanks."_

" _Stop thanking me. You're putting me off, dude."_

 _At Carl's sarcasm, Patrick simply rolled his eyes, his smile still settled into place as he made the common gesture of raising his hand in order to push his glasses into place._

" _So.."_

 _The taller boy shrugged, meeting eyes with his new partner once again._

" _What do we do now?"_

 _A moment passed between the pair, silent happiness bubbling within each._

" _Soccer?"_

The prison was dark when Patrick opened his eyes, the high windows of the cell block letting just a small amount of light break through. Silence sounded throughout, besides the tapping of feet here and there from the early wakers of the prison; those who would leave early in order to make a start on clearing the fences, or those who struggled to sleep even an hour without the nightmares interrupting.

He sat up. Looked around. Put his glasses on and looked around again, giving himself the slightest nod of approval as the blur of his sight cleared up and he came to realise that the dark shape that had just now entered his room was, in fact, a person, as opposed to a supernatural being of the night.

"Morning, Carl."

"Glasses."

The trace of a smile cracked over Patrick's expression as he rolled his eyes at the nickname, finally getting to his feet and raking a hand back through his own scruff of hair. 'Glasses' had become some sort of term of affection by this point, and he was no longer offended by the name as he had been upon first joining the prison group.

"You're here pretty early."

The taller boy's response was simple as he made his way over to his boyfriend, who now leant with arms crossed against the cell entrance, his hat placed atop his head as it usually would be when he was going outside. Patrick tilted his head a fraction, then turned to pick up a shirt from the floor, attempting to find the head-hole as he continued to speak.

" Are you going out on a run?"

" _We're_ going out on a run, Pat."

The elder cocked a brow, glancing up again.

"You and your Dad, you mean?"

"Me and my Dad and / _you/."_

Carl paused, shrugging.

"And, you know, five or six other people."

Patrick puffed up his cheeks momentarily, quickly releasing the air as he looked back down at the shirt in his hands and pulled it over his head, adjusting his glasses again afterwards and leaning against the opposite wall to Carl who, at this point, shifted to stand properly, having noticed the concern in his partner's expression.

"We'll be _fine._ The group have been to this mall, like, _dozens_ of times. It's safe."

Silence, as he made his way closer to Patrick, until they were just inches away, and studied his expression for a moment. Still, the elder of the pair didn't speak. Carl sighed.

"You can't get any better if you never come out with us."

The smaller tilted his head; it was a known fact by now that Patrick was fairly useless when it came to weaponry and runs. The kid could barely hold a knife properly, let alone shoot a gun in a direction that was even vaguely correct.

" _Fine."_

Patrick quickly roped his arms around Carl, standing straight as he pulled him closer and the younger released a quiet laugh into his chest before looking up to meet eyes and pulling back slightly, a grin now evident.

"Meet us at the cars in fifteen minutes."

And with that, he planted a speedy kiss to Patrick's cheek before running to meet his father.


End file.
